f o r t y : whatever's necessary

December 31st, 2020

Lacey's POV:

It's a cold, crisp morning: a pleasant time for change. The majority of citizens is ready for it, and the rest need to get on board. We are trailblazing today.

We started with private loans and donations from supporters for the cause, and now we have government funding. I moved out of that messy dorm and into a modern themed condo in northwest D.C.

Terra moved in downstairs with Harry. I can't believe that relationship lasted this long. I thought one would have cut the other loose by now. Instead, everyone has to watch their toxic relationship from the sidelines. One moment, they're in love, talking about their kids' names. The next moment, they hate each other, and he comes running back to me. I wonder if Terra knows where he goes in the middle of the night during their fights. After 3 years, it's still upstairs, in my apartment, where he escapes to. Every time it's: "I'm fucking done with her"; "I think she's seeing some other guy"; "I want you so badly." Please. I know exactly what I am, and oddly enough, I'm okay with it... trying to be okay with it.

I stir some eggs and sausages in a pan, and suddenly the doorbell rings. And this is a classy condominium, so it's more of a peaceful chime than a "ding dong."

I look through the peephole, and guess who it is...

"Hey! I'm so excited for today. I feel like electricity is surging through my veins. We're finally going to get what we want. I-Is something burning?" she stutters.

Shit. My eggs.

I turn abruptly, leaving the door and her mouth half open.

Salvaging whatever I could out of the pan, I made my breakfast burrito.

After two hearty bites, I look up at her surprised expression. "Come in, Ter."

It's not burnt; it's seared.

"Right," she closes the door softly, "I was just saying that I'm really exc--" she shifts uncomfortably.

"Why don't you seem... happier?"

I don't know, Terra. Let's see: I've fallen in love with a guy, your boyfriend, who only sees me as a side chick; I endured a frightening attempted assault that I just can't seem to get over; Everyone's looking up to me, and I can't help but feel vastly unaccomplished. I'm not who they say I am.

"I'm just... hungry?" I pick up the burrito.

She scoffs, "I know you better than that."

Do you?

"It's because you don't have a date to the celebration party."

Yeah, that's the fucking reason. She goes on and on about how Harry's brother will be there, and how she could set us up. I don't want Harry's brother...

I'm supposed to be this all-knowing role model for women. I'm supposed to be above taking men's shit, but I'm not. I'm below the shit. I'm the bag that the shit is thrown out of--emptied and refilled again with false hope and empty promises. They think I founded this experiment on nobility, but I did it out of vengence and rage. Here I was, being the poster child of emotional fragility in women, while I boasted that it shouldn't hold us back, or even exist. Fuck. And now I have to unleash the chemicals that will change society as we know it, then attend a celebration party, which I am not in the mood for--not in the slightest.

I take another aggravated bite out of my breakfast.

"Terra, stop," I interject, "I'm fine with just going alone. That's how I started this thing," I say lowly.

"You started this with supporters, donors..."

"I started with my idea, my creative writing. Then I was inspired to take it further with a Tweet. Then, you and your friends came along," I spit out the last sentence. It was involuntary, but a little bit of rage leaked into my speech.

"You say that like it's a bad thing. We got what we wanted. Cheer up."

"It's not a bad thing." I just want to tear through her shiny personality. "I was just saying," I shrug.

"Hey," she walks up, "We're 21, we're young, and we're going to change the world. Also, I love you. Cheer up," she emphasizes.

Then she leaves, and I can finally take a breath. How the hell have I been doing this for 3 years?

It's still early, so I have time to go out for coffee. I could make it myself, but something about the brisk winter air and nature just makes me want to take a stroll.

In this part of the city, coffee shops dot every street corner. It's not hard for me to saunter into the closest one to me.

It feels familiar. The scent or the energy in the room--something. Then I turn to see Harry's eyes burning through the side of my head. Our deal also included no public displays of affection--we would simply regard each other like any friend to her friend's boyfriend, so I send him a light wave. He returns it.

I place my order for a peppermint mocha latte, and in the corner of my eye, I can see him waving me over.

"Hey," I say lightly.

"We need to talk," he blurts.

I sigh, "I haven't told her. No need to be para--"

"It's not that," he says sharply. "Terra and I got married."

My calm demeanor falls dramatically into utter shock. They got what?

"We had a talk about our relationship, and I gave her an ultimatum. I told her that we need to mend our relationship: whether that's counseling, spending some time apart, whatever. She just blurted out that we should get married," he shrugs with a smile.

She never told me.

"We discreetly got rings and found a courthouse. We wanted it to be private--something just for us. Also, we both decided to be honest. I told her about our relations and she was honest about her past, too. We're happily married, so this," he points from me to him, "cannot happen anymore," he finishes.

Just then, I hear "Lacey!"

I retrieve my drink and leave, all in one movement.

Returning back home and plopping myself on the couch, I come to the realization.

She knows.

~A couple hours later~

"Welcome to Aura Labs. Take a program, get some refreshments, and sit back as we make history! There's a table over there for donations," she points. One of our public and media relations people has decided to take over the entrance table. I think I might keep her around. Isla Vox, is it? She's definitely a hard worker.

Terra and Harry are giggling by the water fountain. What a strong image before we alter humanity: my right hand woman flirting with her boyfriend.

"Terra," I speak up. She walks over. "Go check if the right champagne is in the conference room--108."

She tilts her head, "Don't we have an intern or someone to do that?"

I focus my gaze right between her eyebrows, "Please." I form it as a statement. I'm telling you, not asking.

She huffs lightly and turns on her heel, "And make sure there are 30 cases, like we ordered," I add.

She pauses for a second after that, then continues to the room.

Harry looks up at me with distant eyes. We could have really been something. Joke's on me for even having one iota of hope... whatever. I've got to keep my eye on the prize.

The woman at the table turns to me, "Great turn out, right?" she gestures to the crowd of people in the lobby. It's a good thing that vaccine for the coronavirus was successful. I was beginning to think we'd have to do this on video.

"Yep," I beam. Reporters and bystanders line the main computer lab. Some people gape at our equipment in the chemical lab.

"But what about the children? These drugs--"

I squeeze in, "They're not drugs. The gas is a--"

"Mind-altering substance," the pushy reporter interjects.

"Yes, but--"

"You heard it here, America! It's not too late to end this madness!"

This particular reporter hates my guts. I think he hates the guts of all women...

Good thing we've got something to cure that, and if the chemical doesn't help him, we have something for that, too.

The terrifyingly misogynistic Gary Schultz turns to me after wrapping up his segment.

He twists his lips into a cocky grin, "So how long do you think it'll be before the police bust this place open, and you get locked up for treason?"

What a magnificent use of words.

"Never. Next question."

He huffs and tries to speak. "Well, I think that's all the time I have. I've got to check something in the back," I cut in.

I speed out of there and go into one of the private bathrooms.

While wiping my forehead, I take one smooth breath and turn to the mirror.

"You can do this." I point and emphasize, "You can do this."

~3 hours later~

She's been giving me looks all night--not overtly angry or... overtly anything. They're passive looks, but since I know that she knows, they seem pointed.

She's--

"Lacey," someone calls.

"Hmm?" I look up.

"Everything looks amazing. The media response is pretty positive as well. From the span of our entire experience--"

"Excuse me," I tell her while brushing past her to catch Terra.

She weasled herself through the exit, and I decided to confront her, once and for all. Media representation can wait.

She walks down the corridor with steady and crisp steps.

I try to follow directly behind her, but she realizes she's being followed immediately.

Snapping her neck around, she asks, "Why are you following me, Lace?"

I scoff, "We're just traveling in the same direction... it's a coincidence," I shrug it off.

"There's only one bathroom in this direction."

Right...

She rolls her eyes and turns into a lab room.

"I know that you know," I enter behind her.

"Know what?" she smiles.

"Did you know this morning? When you were offering me up as a date for his brother? Did you know that he's the only one I'd want to celebrate tonight with?" I spit.

She runs up to me with lightning speed, despite her heels, slapping her palm across my face.

I quickly press down on the spot of contact. What the hell?

I chuckle, "Is that the best you can do? Do better. I've been screwing him for years," I emphasize the last word.

That's all it takes for her to pick up a beaker of acid and hurl it at my head. I knew we shouldn't have made that purchase.

I lunge to the left, and the weapon misses me completely. Some acid actually gets on her foot.

As she whines in pain, I let out a low laugh.

"We were supposed to be friends!"

"Friends don't throw acid at each other," I cross my arms.

"Friends don't screw each other's boyfriends" she shouts back.

"You screwed someone else, too--multiple people for all I know."

She looks down and quietly says, "I didn't do anything with anyone else--that was all him."

"But--"

"He's super jealous, okay? He makes assumptions and overreacts. I never cheated on him," she finishes.

I fucked up.

"I knew he was fucking someone. I just didn't know who. To think I was confiding in someone who cared about me when I came to you on those nights... you were probably with him right before," she gags. "How does it feel to know he lied? He played you to get back at me."

Rage is pouring through my veins. He--he... never cared about me. Part of me wishes he wasn't even there that day... at least I wouldn't be clinging to this false hope. He only saw me as one thing, and he chose her. All those "sleepless nights" and tears... fake tears he spewed out... they meant nothing. He made me vulnerable, and that will never happen again.

"Shut up," I say dramatically. She doesn't know what the hell I've been through.

"Please, is that the best you can do?" she bitterly copies me. "He doesn't want you. He never wanted you," she holds up her diamond engagement ring as proof.

In blinded fury, I grab a test syringe, filled with one of our older samples, and jam it into her arm.

The feeling of her skin breaking away beneath the needle eases my anger--but not enough. I press down the plunger, watching the blue liquid course through her veins.

She sputters, "La--"

"Shhh," I push her hair out of her face. "This is the best I can do," I whisper into her ear.